


Turn You Over My Knee

by teacuphuman



Series: A Month of Kink! [7]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Aftercare, Come as Lube, Dom/sub Undertones, Jealousy, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 06:26:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4950100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacuphuman/pseuds/teacuphuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur doesn't like it when people touch Eames.</p><p>Eames shivers just as the second strike lands, slightly lower than the first. The overlapping area prickles, but he holds his position as Arthur delivers two more hits, one right after the other. By the fifth smack, Eames is whining and pressing back into it. When he turns his head he sees Arthur panting, face red with effort, but utterly in control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn You Over My Knee

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7 of the Month of Kink: Spanking
> 
> I keep trying to write hardcore kink stories and wind up with romantic schmoop. Good think I still have 24 more days to get it right!

Eames knows he’s in trouble when the mark’s hand slides around his waist. His goal is to dose the man’s drink and swipe his hotel key card, but at this point an invite to the room is inevitable. While that’s the easier route, the outcome isn’t something Eames looks forward to.

Sure enough, when Eames opens the door to let Arthur in 45 minutes later, the lack of eye contact and mask of calm on the point man’s face broadcasts his displeasure. The mark is unconscious on the bed, shirt unbuttoned and trousers around his ankles. Arthur pauses for a fraction of a second before setting the PASIV beside him and getting down to business. 

Despite his anger, Arthur is the very picture of professional and his gentle touch makes Eames shiver when the needle goes in. Fifteen minutes later they’re wiping down the room and leaving from separate exits, the account number they’ve been paid to extract safely stowed in the pocket of Eames’ jacket.

Three days later Eames unlocks the front door, listening for movement. He finds Arthur in the kitchen, washing the dinner dishes. Eames presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, taking a moment to breathe the man in. 

“Sorry I’m late.” He says into Arthur’s neck.

“Blizzard in Toronto.” Arthur pulls away to drain the sink. 

“Mmm, they had to de-ice the plane three times.”

“There’s a plate in the fridge for you,” Arthur dries his hands, watching Eames closely. “I’m going to get some work done for the Santos job next month. Shower after you eat, and come find me.”

Eames stills, frozen in the light from the fridge. Goosebumps rise on his skin at the command in Arthur’s voice.

“I can eat later,” he offers.

“No, you’ve had a long trip. Eat, and take a minute. You’ll need your strength.”

Arthur leaves Eames in a state of anticipation, and he hurries through his meal. He empties his dirty laundry into the hamper, no use antagonizing Arthur more than he already is, and takes a long, hot shower.

By the time he steps into the study where Arthur is seated in front of his computer, his skin is pink and wrinkly. Eames stands where Arthur can see him and waits for his instructions. Arthur has had three days to sit with his anger and Eames knows he’s eager to let it out.

Arthur closes his laptop and swivels his chair around to take in the towel-clad man before him, his gaze heavy and contemplative. Eames does his best not to fidget, but he can’t help the blood rushing to his cock and tenting the towel as Arthur studies him.

“Come here,” Arthur points the the floor in front of him and Eames goes immediately to his knees. Arthur pats his leg and cards his hand through Eames’ hair when he lays it there.

“I didn’t like him touching you,” Arthur says quietly as he scratches Eames scalp. “He had no right.”

Eames stays silent, pressing into Arthur’s touch.

“When I think about what happened in that room before he passed out.” Arthur takes a shaky breath, his fingers pulling sharply at Eames’ hair.

He tilts Eames’ head up, tracing his mouth with his index finger. Eames parts his lips, pulling the finger into his mouth and sucking gently. Arthur breath picks up and he slips in another, thrusting them slowly. He tilts Eames’ head back further, arching his neck and trailing wet fingers over his Adam’s apple.

Arthur releases him with a small push and get to his feet. Eames wants to press his face to where the other man’s erection is pressing against his trousers. He knows better than that, though. Two years of Arthur’s rules have taught him the value of patience.

“Come,” Arthur calls from the door, and Eames follows him to the bedroom.

Arthur is standing in front of the bed, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling them to his elbows. “Close the door and get on the bed. On your hands and knees.” 

Arthur removes his watch as the door clicks shut. Eames is buzzing with apprehension. He climbs onto the bed, rolling his shoulders and centering himself on the slippery duvet. As soon as he settles, Arthur tugs at the towel, hanging it on the back of the bathroom door. 

He approaches the bed from behind Eames so it’s a bit of a surprise when a warm hand wraps around his ankle. Long fingers run firm and slow, up Eames calf, spreading over his thigh, and cupping his cheek. 

He hears Arthur’s inhale, loud in the stillness of the room. The other hand presses a hard line down Eames’ back, skating over the knobs of his spine and making him arch into the touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” Arthur whispers, pressing his lips to the skin of Eames’ lower back. 

Eames is having a hard time breathing as Arthur’s hands pet him, reacquainting themselves with his body. He knows Arthur needs this time to regain control. To calm down before starts working off his jealousy and frustration. If Eames speaks now, Arthur will lose his focus and they’ll both suffer.

It had only taken breaking the rules once for Eames to learn his lesson. For weeks after, Arthur had been lost in guilt. Destroyed by the knowledge that in losing control, he had hurt Eames. In the end, the bruises had faded, the trust had been rebuilt, and Eames better understood what Arthur needed from him. 

The first slap cuts through his haze of arousal, rocking Eames forward with a grunt. The pain is sharp and hot, the force behind it an insight into Arthur’s frame of mind. Usually they start slow, working up to strikes that snap across his skin. That Arthur has started like this, with just his open palm means this is more than venting an annoyance; it’s a reclaiming.

Eames shivers just as the second strike lands, slightly lower than the first. The overlapping area prickles, but he holds his position as Arthur delivers two more hits, one right after the other. By the fifth smack, Eames is whining and pressing back into it. When he turns his head he sees Arthur panting, face red with effort, but utterly in control.

The next half dozen blows are delivered to the other cheek. Arthur spreads them out, making his skin burn, each point of contact an electric current running straight to Eames’ cock. He’s leaking onto the duvet, moaning wantonly as Arthur spanks him. 

By the time Arthur stops, Eames’ arms are shaking and his stomach aches with the effort of holding himself up. Through the bite of pain and the glow of lust, Eames feels Arthur’s lips on him. He hisses, pulling away, but the other man guides him back by the hips, murmuring into the swollen flesh.

“Beautiful, so perfect. Fuck, Eames, you’re amazing.” Arthur is massaging the abused area, pulling the cheeks apart, his fingers dipping into the crack. 

Eames is in a haze, the high from the pain setting him adrift so that he feels apart from his body. When Arthur’s tongue licks across his hole, he shouts, attention ripping back to the man behind him. With a firm hand, Arthur forces his shoulders down to the bed. He’s on display and Arthur is taking full advantage. He trails soft kisses around the tight muscle, petting it gently with the pads of his fingers. 

Once Eames relaxes, Arthur hold him open with his thumbs and the kisses turn sloppy. Before long, Eames is sobbing, his cock aching when it brushes the duvet beneath him as Arthur fucks him with his tongue. Arthur is groaning behind him like he can’t get enough and it’s taking all Eames has not to beg to be fucked.

The tension is building, spurred on by the delicate stroke of the duvet and the force and enthusiasm of Arthur’s assault. With a choked cry, Eames comes untouched, ribbons of cum painting his chest and belly.

He collapses when Arthur finally pulls back, dragging his nails down the back of Eames’ thighs. Strong hands guide him up the bed and Arthur kneels behind him, still fully dressed. The sound of his zipper is astonishingly loud and Eames keens at the heat of Arthur’s hard cock pressing at his hole. 

Arthur makes shushing noises, reaching forward to gather Eames’ spunk with his hand. He glances over his shoulder to see Arthur spreading it on his own cock, grinning with dimples on display. This is the Arthur Eames loves the most. The one who has trusted Eames to see him through the darkness. The Arthur that remains when all the fear and uncertainty has been vented through Eames’ body, and is now intent on reconnecting them and setting them back on equal ground.

Arthur presses forward, the head of his cock slipping in easily. He doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated and whispering praise between Eames’ shoulderblades. He fucks him with long, hard strokes that have Eames pushing against the headboard, grinding down on Arthur’s cock. 

He cries out when Arthur curves over his back, snapping into him and hitting his prostate with every stroke. Eames tries to protest, but he’s getting hard again and when Arthur takes him in hand, all he can do is scream. Arthur kisses his ears, the fabric of his clothing scraping at Eames’ skin. 

Eames comes again, spilling into Arthur’s hand and cursing his name. He goes limp but Arthur continues to fuck him, thrusts turning frantic as he chases his release. Eames has to brace his arms to stop from bashing his head on the headboard as Arthur ruts wildly, finally, finally, seizing up as he empties himself into Eames. 

Arthur lays across his back until he goes soft enough to slip out. Eames can feel cum trickling down his thighs, warm and thick. He nudges Arthur off him, rolling them both until he’s behind the other man. He presses up close, running his nose along Arthur’s neck until he shivers.

In a little while they’ll peel themselves out of bed, strip off Arthur’s soiled clothes, and stumble into the shower, but for now, Eames is content to lay here, knowing he’s everything Arthur will ever need.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are just the best things ever!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/teacuphuman09


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